Thorns and Poison
by Antionette8706
Summary: Rose is in her sixth year at Hogwarts and her life isn't exactly carefree. With prefect duties, relatives, hormonal friends, strange occurrences in the wizarding world, a hot new professor, and a mission to fufill, Rose isn't living the relaxed life.
1. Mission?

I briskly walked through the corridor. I cannot BELIEVE I am a sixth year and still doing this kind of bloody thing. I mean, _honestly, _why couldn't anything be done without me? I understand I'm a prefect and all, but come ON. Couldn't I go just one day without having to be called for something?

As I reared to a stop at the doors, I took a short, quick breath. I was fuming, so I had to compose myself.

Plastering a very fake, very forced grin, I entered the classroom. "You wished to see me, _Professor_?"

Professor Dawson turned around. "Ah, Rose, yes. I'm glad you finally came to join us." He smirked and gave me an arrogant glare. I inwardly snorted. "It's surprising a _Gryffindor _prefect would be late for a meeting, when a _Slytherin_ prefect came _fifteen _minutes early!" He laughed evilly. Well, it might have not been evil, but it sure gave me the chills. And besides, I wasn't even late! I arrived just on time. A quarter to seven!

Professor Dawson was a tall, young man with curly brown locks and a wide jaw. He had light hazel eyes and had a fairly built body. To the female population of Hogwarts, he was the new "hot" teacher, which every time I heard, I gagged a little. He was also the new Potions master, as well as the new Head of Slytherin, since Slughorn retired officially last year. And finally, he was the biggest wanker I've ever met. Well, the second biggest.

"Yeah, Weasel. We missed you, terribly," scoffed the blonde boy in the room.

"I'm sure you did," I replied sweetly, my voice dripping with sarcasm, as I walked into the classroom, finding a chair adjacent to Wanker One and Wanker Two. THAT GUY was the biggest wanker I ever met!

"When hell freezes over," sneered Wanker One. After five years of agitation, I learned to simply ignore this pathetic boy. I smiled back and turned away. I heard him scowl. I smiled again.

"Well, now, I'm sure you two are on the edge of your seats for why I have called you two!" Wanker Two- I mean, Professor Dawson, exclaimed. Wanker One had his legs propped on the desk before him and both of his hands folded behind his head. I had my legs crossed and my arms crossed. Both of us also had a look of sheer boredom and annoyance at why we were there in the first place. Yes, Wanker Two, we're simply _ecstatic_ we're wasting our time on a perfect Saturday morning when we could both be sleeping.

"As my top NEWTs students for Potions," I raised my eyebrows. Obviously I was the top student in that class, but since when was Malfoy also a top student? All he did was sleep, doodle, annoy me, and sleep some more in that class. Sure he did all his potions perfectly and all his homework, but he never paid any attention in class! He probably cheats off of Albus. "I want you two to go on a- let's say- a little _mission_ for me."

I raised my eyebrows ever farther. I glanced over at Wanker One, and he had a lazy look on his face as if this was not exciting in the least. I gave him a dirty look and his eyes looked over at me. He smirked as if he caught me staring at him. I sneered. He gave another crooked grin. SO ARROGANT!

I huffed and turned my attention back to Wanker Two- I mean, Professor Dawson.

"Are you two done?" questioned Professor Dawson. He looked very impatient. I nodded, and Malfoy just yawned.

"Alright then. This mission is very classified, so-" Professor Dawson brought out a piece of parchment paper and a strange, red quill. "Sign this is you vow not to tell a soul." I inwardly gasped. This was serious! I contemplated the options. Should I sign it and not have any idea what I'm supposed to do, or should I chicken out and go on for the rest of Hogwarts wondering what could have been? I hesitantly glanced over at Malfoy and saw that he already gotten up from his lounging position and signed the parchment. The quill gave off some blue sparks, but nothing else quite special. Professor Dawson beamed at him, and I scoffed at them. Dawson looked like a bloody fan girl every time Malfoy did something. Malfoy turned around and raised an eyebrow.

"What Weasel? Too scared?" he asked in a "superior" tone. "Should have expected it…"

I glared at him. He really knew how to piss me off. Out of rage, I stood up and walked vigorously to the parchment. Malfoy's name was written surprisingly neat and formal. I didn't know he knew how to write in script. I took the red quill lying beside the parchment and hastily wrote my name. I was a little upset that his name looked far better than mine. He did have a unique name. I giggled though. Who name's their child _Scorpius_?

"Something funny?" asked Professor Dawson, his eyebrows raised.

"No, Professor."

"Good, well then. Now that I have your consent, here's the mission," he said. He waved his wand, and the doors shut and the curtains were drawn to all the windows.

"You two have obviously heard of the recent events occurring in the wizarding world. There has been an explosion, an outbreak, an epidemic," stated Dawson in a somber tone.

Malfoy scoffed. I glared at him. How could he ignore these recent events? Sure, Dawson was making it a little dramatic, but it still was a serious issue! Dad and Mum are getting worried too…

Dawson smirked, "This topic amuses you, Scorpius?"

Malfoy grinned back, "Yeah, it does. This 'epidemic' is nothing but propaganda. I mean, do you honestly expect me to believe there has been an uproar of _love?"_


	2. The Notebook lol jk

Professor Dawson smirked slightly, but narrowed his eyes. "It seems a bit strange, yes, but it is completely dangerous."

Malfoy rolled his eyes. I scowled at him. He was making it seem as if nothing horrible was happening!

"Yes, well, I'll break down the basic knowledge we have of this epidemic. Twenty-four years ago, Harry Potter defeated Tom Riddle at the Battle of Hogwarts. We have learned from Mr. Potter that the reason for Riddle's demise was he had no love in his heart and that the reason Mr. Potter lived was because of his mother's sacrifice, her _love._ Surely after the Battle, the known Death Eaters at the time were all captured and sent to Azkaban while the "victims" vowed they were under the Imperius Curse. The ones who were not caught all went into hiding, or left the country. Even though the Ministry desperately used all their efforts to capture them, they had escaped from punishment.

"The Ministry knew they would try to return and bring back Voldemort's efforts, but were completely shocked when they did. Their tactics were an entire one-eighty. Instead of reeking havoc upon the wizarding world by killings and torture, they turned to a different approach. They came back, and with a new power. It was not a spell or a hex or an object. It was a potion, in which they poisoned all of the drinks and food of all high Ministry officials. It was a new, colorless, odorless potion which was completely undetected by the Ministry and caused an immense breakout of _love. _

"The officials started acting completely deranged and divorces were filed left and right and the Ministry remained in a state of panic. Naturally the news has been hidden, but the _Prophet _is starting to pick up the news. The Aurors collected a sample of the potion and brought it to all potion masters, including yours truly. However it is a very complex potion, consisting of ingredients even professional potioneers, like myself, have yet to even seen.

"Now, the Ministry has been trying to cover up this outbreak with positive feedback that the potion is being researched and that we are on a verge of a breakthrough," he chuckled.

"There is no breakthrough…" I said softly. Dawson nodded.

"…and that's why we're here," finished Malfoy, in a bored tone.

Dawson nodded, smiling. "All the potioneers that the Ministry contacted range from ages twenty all the way to 143. The potioneers all consented to an agreement that they are too 'old' for a petty love potion, yet can't seem to solve it because this deranged love hasn't been in their lives for years. The Ministry then got in touch with Headmaster Flitwick and he agreed to their proposition. That proposition was to have teenagers research, test, and fundamentally, experiment, with the potion."

I widened my eyes.

"S-So, we are t-to consume the potion?" I asked tentatively. Dawson grinned.

"Of course," he responded. "But not today," he added.

"Your mission for now is to get to know each other."

The sentence hung in the air. Wait, wait, wait. WHAT?

"P-Professor?" I asked, "Y-You want us t-to what?" Had the wanker gone mad? How did this mission have any relevance to the current crisis?

"To get to know each other," finished Malfoy, his tone irritated. "Honestly, has that mop of a head impaired your hearing?"

I opened my mouth for a retort, but Dawson interrupted, "Rose, do you have a hearing problem?" He looked at me with sheer interest. I held back a scowl.

"No, _Professor_," grinding my teeth together. Malfoy looked like he was biting back a smirk.

"Oh, thank goodness. Now, regarding your mission, I want you two to record a journal. This journal must have all your deepest, darkest secrets. Pour your soul into this notebook, perhaps," said Dawson, pulling out a simple, black notebook. "One half of this notebook is yours, Scorpius. The same to you, Rose."

He wanted us to WHAT? I am not some tween girl who keeps a diary and write on and on about some dumb boy she has a crush on. When I was at that age, I rode broomsticks, not a miniature, pink unicorn named Rainbows. Now I'm supposed to write a diary? WITH WANKER ONE?

"I want the book to be written on anything, or how about, everything in your lives. Your school life, friendships, love, anything personal. Don't worry, I won't be reading them, no matter how exciting and intelligent the lives of two sixteen year olds can be," he grinned. I almost rolled my eyes. He was definitely going to read Malfoy's. Bloody pedo. Still, he hadn't mentioned why he wanted us to do this…

"P-Professor, what exactly is the reas-"

"Alright, Professor. When are we to hand this in?" cut Malfoy. I looked at him incredulously. He was okay with this? He had an impatient look about him, but he seemed entirely calm.

Dawson beamed, the bloody fan girl, and said, "Next week. I want every entry to be alternating."

"Who starts?" asked Malfoy, getting to his feet. I stood up quickly as well.

"Ah, choose amongst yourselves," said Dawson, gathering his things. He picked up the signed parchment paper and the quill and put them into a thin emerald box. "I'll be on my way. Feel free to ask any questions anytime you see me. Oh, and don't forget, this mission is completely confidential, so don't tell anyone. Not even cousin Albus, Rose." Dawson smiled and left the classroom.

"Bloody prick," I muttered. Why did he have to single me out? Malfoy had a cousin too! And Desiree Greengrass-Zabini was exactly the quietest person in the Slytherin House. I turned to Malfoy, who was scratching his head, uninterestedly.

He looked up at me and said, "Ladies first. Oh wait, then who goes first?"

I smiled, "Yes quite a predicament, seeing as there are two girls here." He scowled.

He took the notebook, walked up to me, and shoved it into my hands.

"Give it to me after breakfast. And don't bring the ginger entourage either," he sneered. I scowled back. Even though I knew his statement was accurate, seeing as the Weasley cousins would follow me anywhere, I still had to defend them.

"Shut up," I retorted, glaring.

"Clever, Weasel. No idea where you get those pea-sized brains of yours," glowered Malfoy. He put his hands in his pockets and strode out the aisle towards the doors. Malfoy halted, his hand on the door.

"Oh, and don't write a novel. I personally do not want to read forty pages of how _awful_ your life is," he smirked, and with that, he left.

Bloody. Wanker.


End file.
